Humanity's Rejects
by SolarTrigger
Summary: They wanted equality, they got pain. They became angry, they were considered threats. "Humans will never understand . . ." What if your "enemy" was your only defense against obliteration? Can they protect the ones that hate them most once more?
1. Prologue

**Humanity's Rejects  
**

**A/N: **Whooo! Another story up! This one is a collab fic featuring the lovely mind of Writerdragon *cheers* and myself xD. We each own our respective OCs and all that. Please enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Writerdragon and I do not own Monsters vs. Aliens.

**Prologue**

Far out in the galaxy, a planet is nestled among the stars, accompanied by two moons. The planet, locally known as Alberton, is a beauty, especially compared to the occasional asteroid that floated by. With flourishing land highlighted by light blue grass, trees right out of Dr. Seuss, and waters more purple than any amethyst, it would be hard to convince any organism that this wouldn't be an ideal place to live.

However, appearances can be deceiving.

Something is enveloping this cosmic paradise, an ominous sign for the future. And unfortunately, the furred natives of Alberton have been mercilessly struck by this harbinger of doom. Upon taking a closer look, one can see a particular product of such a thing in a building in the midst of the light blue flora.

* * *

In a hospital room, a tall, red-furred woman with white under markings looked down at the motionless figure from the chair she was currently occupying. Her long, slender body was clothed in a light orange outfit which consisted of a vest, a shirt, and a dress that flared out; she also wore a large blue bow around her neck. Brown horns curved like a ram's behind large, feathered ears; the latter drooped in response to her current mood. Long gray hair trailed down the woman's llama-like neck, out of the way of her long, thin face. Her tiny hands rested in her lap, and her long tail lay limp on the floor.

The figure before her looked similar in appearance, but the fur was purple with light-purple under markings, the horns were long and erect, the hair was dark-purple and spiked, and six horizontal scars adorned the body; three on the neck, and three on the bridge of the nose. Said figure was male, and garbed in a white polo and blue jeans. A frown was on his lips. And let's not forget the black blotches and red spots scattered across his body, which weren't always there.

Why do these creatures look so alike? They're mother and son.

The mother knew she had somewhere to be, but wanted to spend a few more moments with her son. She sighed, got up from the chair, and walked closer to her son on tiny feet. She closed his eyes with her hand.

"Find peace, Garascar…" she murmured.

* * *

The furred woman walked into an office and was greeted by a similar, male alien. They merely nodded to each other before the latter began to speak.

"Xenphea, as you know Alberton has suffered greatly under the wrath of this disease. If we don't do something soon, our entire race will cease to exist. We ask a precious favor of you: go to space and find a cure for this dilemma. I trust that you will find something, considering your skills as head of the Searcher's Department," the officer explained in a gruff voice.

Xenphea nodded again.

"I accept."

"Good, we'll take care of things here. There's a pod waiting for you in the back."

Xenphea headed towards the door, when she paused at the sound of the officer's voice.

"And ma'am? I'm sorry about your loss."

The furred woman didn't turn around, and remained silent for a few moments. When she did speak, her voice was calm.

"I'm not the only one who's suffered."

And with that, she exited the building.

Meanwhile, on one of the two moons orbiting Alberton, a tall figure casually stepped down from a flight of stairs that led to a large spaceship. Straight dark-red hair reached swaying hips and complimented tanned skin. Rich black pupiless eyes gazed down at the planet Alberton, accompanied by a disgusted frown.

"Such sinful creatures…it's amazing how such a beautiful planet is filled with despicable cretins."

Her voice was smooth as silk and colored with malice.

"Their time for repentance is near."

The unknown woman brandished an oval device from a pocket at her waist, and lightly presses a sequence of buttons. On top of the spacecraft, a panel opens and an electrical gate rises from the depths of machinery. The woman turned a knob, and the gate began to glow blue-white. After a few moments, the woman lifted the device to her mouth and uttered one word.

"Fire."

The gate shot out a misshapen sphere of electricity. As the sphere neared Alberton, it gathered more energy from the planet's own electric field, and enveloped said planet. It squeezed down on the planet with unimaginable pressure, and Alberton began to break apart and disintegrate. The waves of pressure were washing up on the moons, including the one where our unidentified female was standing. Even as she made her way back to the ship with the moon rumbling and threatening to swallow her, a smile was on her face as tears flowed from her eyes, reflecting the destruction before her. She truly looked horrifying.

"For The Mother!"

She quickly went inside, and flew a safe distance away from the crumbling moon. The woman sat at the console, wiping away the last of the tears and calming down from the exhilaration.

"I must remain focused. I'll be able to rejoice for The Mother soon enough."

She pulled up a map, and crossed out Alberton. A feeling of déjà vu overtook her, and she scanned through the list of planets. She found what she was looking for.

"Ahh, the planet Earth in the Omega Quadrant. Similar to dear Alberton; just as unholy."

A broad smirk graced her features, and she manually activated warp drive. Five minutes later, the ship had reached unsuspecting Earth. The woman landed her spacecraft in a wide expanse of desert. A flight of stairs led her safely to the ground. She was now carrying a green-tinted glass container, had a long dagger sheathed at her side, and a laser gun that resembled a mini rocket launcher strapped to her back. She glanced at the container, her smirk never leaving, and then took off toward the cities in the distance.

* * *

Xenphea was deeply alarmed, and her facial expression reflected such. Her sleek ship was currently behind a group of asteroids. She had seen the entire thing, and had hidden when the long-haired woman destroyed Alberton; now there was nothing left of her planet but rocks and gases. She closed her eyes and bowed her head in honor of the planet and those who were lost.

After a few moments, she re-focused on navigation. Unfortunately, the shock waves damaged the unit that initiates warp drive, but Xenphea's ship still had speed. She had been close enough to the other woman's ship to hear a computer confirm a course to Earth. Xenphea flew off in the same direction the mystery woman had gone, hoping to warn the Earthlings of the impending danger.

Alas, by the time Xenphea reached Earth, things had already been set into motion.


	2. I: Not one of us

**Humanity's Rejects**

**A/N:** Okay, Writerdragon here! Solar and I are taking turns writing.  
**Disclaimer:** SolarTrigger and I do not own Monsters vs. Aliens, just our respected OCs, peeps.

**Not one of us**

**I**

The Stigma, as people called, was a pandemic. Doctors had not a clue how to treat it or cure it. Scientists had no idea what it was. It has been three days since the first discovery of it in Mumbai, India. Three-hundred people had it. It was then noticed in Nanjing, China. Nine-hundred people had it, too. More and more cases of it popped up from all around the world, until it reached the United States of America. One-hundred people were said to have it. It looked like decaying skin; black with red dots speckled in its blackness. Symptoms were horrid: the victim would cough up blood, there would be stinging in the area of The Stigma, dizziness, light-headedness, vomiting, and fainting was to follow.

Some religious folk claimed it to be the end of the world. But the government said that they would find out a cure soon enough. Their actions proved to be in vain—the president had contracted The Stigma on his hand and foot; no one was safe. No one could understand this. Why them? Animals were being effected and dropping like house flies in winter. Their bodies were burned, so people would not eat the contaminated meat and get The Stigma too.

Carl was worried. He sat on the couch and turned on the television. First the alien threat and now this . . . disease. And to add, people were beginning to fear their monster heroes. It all began as a rumor; that the monsters wanted to take over the planet. People were being yelled at, jeered at, Dr. Cockroach claimed that some man spat on him. Now there were even groups.

The PANH: People Against all Non-Humans. A group led by an unknown boss. It had one goal: lock up the monsters from society.

And there were the MATS: Monsters Are The Same. This group was to counter-act the PANH. It was started none other than General W. R. Monger himself. He claimed that he "knew the monsters better than anyone" and that they would never do such a thing. There were more members of the other group than his.

The heavy-set man clicked through the channels of his television. He stopped when he reached a news station. There was a pretty white woman projected onto the screen. Her hair fell down in thick wavy locks of mud-brown and she wore a white business suit. This was Derek's station and he would normally come on right about now . . .

_"I'm Fiona Flanning, filling in for Derek Dietl,"_ she chided. _"Reports of the pandemic disease has been researched today at Oxford—"_

"Oh, Carl, stop watching such depressing things!" cried his wife from the kitchen.

"They're talking about The Stigma!" Carl called.

Wendy, suddenly interested, ran from the kitchen, stopping at least a foot from the couch Carl was sitting on. Her hand hovered over her heaving breast as she watched the television set from her spot

_"Scientist say that The Stigma is a killer, and is currently untreatable and you have only two years left to live,"_ the woman stated, a frown upon her features. _"Now we talk to scientist William Floodwater about the issue."_

The screen flashed to a British man with rich coal-coloured hair and bright blue eyes. He sported a lab coat and a suit and tie were under it. An interviewer asked: _"What have you found?"_

_"Well,"_ he began, _"what we found is startling. It is a disease unlike any other. It gets into your bloodstream and effect anywhere it can get. It's like jungle rot, but worse. Once it's in your bloodstream, you can't get rid of it. It is a death sentence."_

_"Well, what can we do to stop it from spreading?"_ asked the interviewer.

_"Apply heat on it,"_ the scientist stated, _"it hates it and water as well. And avoid cutting the surface of the skin where The Stigma is growing so you won't infect others in your family. It will ooze black puss. Don't let anyone touch it as you apply water or heat to it. Once it's done, burn whatever you used to clean it up with."_

_"Ew. Gross,"_ murmured the reporter off-screen. _"Anyways, what are the symptoms?"_

_"Coughing up blood, stinging in the area of where ever The Stigma is, dizziness, light-headedness, throwing up and fainting spells."_

_"Thank you for your time."_

_"Of course."_

Wendy gasped, placing a hand to her mouth. "A killer?"

"Two years to live . . .?" Carl whispered in shock.

Wendy rushed to his side, placing her hand to his shoulders. "Oh, God," she breathed. "Oh my God! How could this have happened!?"

Carl hushed his wife, pulling her into a warm embrace. "Don't worry, everything will be fine," he cooed.

_"I other news, the PANH group has created a strike against a coffee café that allows the monsters to dine there,"_ the woman rang out.

The married couple pulled away from each other, looking at the television set yet again. There was a mob of protesters that belonged to the PANH group outside of a café. They held up signs and chatted out: _"Monsters are the enemy!"_ A reporter approached a Latino.

_"Sir, why did you join this group?"_ asked the reporter.

_"Monsters aren't one of us!"_ he cried into the microphone.

_"The anti-monster move is spreading rapidly around the nation and world,"_ the female reporter announced. _"The MATS group fears that the monsters will eventually lose their freedom. In o—"_

Carl turned off the television. "Oh, boy," he whispered. "Things are heating up."

Wendy lowered her head. "Our daughter was freed and now people want to lock her up again!" she cried in pain. "We'll never see her again if this continues!"

Carl's heart pained; and he hugged his wife. He suddenly felt the need to cough. The man pulled back, and started to cough deeply in his hand. Wendy watched, unsure of what was happening. He turned slightly, his cough becoming worse and more violent sounding. Carl stopped and cleared his throat. The man tasted something in his mouth.

He recognized it as the taste of blood.

Carl looked at his hand. Huge spots of blood speckled his palm. Wendy gasped.

"Honey, are you okay?"

He did not answer as blood collected in his mouth. He got up, going to the kitchen to spit it out. Ruby-red flowed down the sink and from his mouth. He spat out what was left as he washed out the sink and his hand. Wendy joined him. She noticed something odd on the back of his neck.

"What's that?" she inquired.

Her husband turned to her. "What is what?" he asked.

Wendy grabbed the collar of her shirt and what she saw made her tear up. She struggled to hide the tears, but Carl noticed. He turned his head to his wife.

"What is it?"

There, the size of her thumb, was a blotchiness of black accompanied with red dots. Wendy knew what it was the moment she laid her eyes upon it . . .

"You have The Stigma."

* * *

The saviors of the world didn't feel like they belonged in the world anymore. Not too long ago, they were loved and praised; now they were glaring at the monsters as they walked the street or ate in a restaurant. Dr. Cockroach tried to ignore the piercing hateful stares that bored into his head. His antennas were low as he tried to get to his favorite café since he was free. A man forcefully slammed into the scientist, Dr. Cockroach spinning on one foot.

"Hey!" the bug-man cried.

The man glared at him and continued to walk. Dr. Cockroach huffed and went on walking to the café. Right when he entered, everyone—literally—turned to him. The bug-headed scientist felt like he was hated. He glanced around but continued to walk to the front of the café. There was one woman who didn't glare at him. "Hey, Doc," she whispered, cleaning a mug.

"Morning, Rose," he greeted. "What's with people now?"

The woman began to make his usual order. "Well, things have been hay-wire," she explained. "You know, there's an anti-monster group out."

Dr. Cockroach turned to her, his eyes widened. "Truly?" he whispered.

"Yes," she answered.

The bug-man let out a growl. "We didn't do anything," he stated.

"I know; you saved us," Rose pointed out. "People shouldn't hate you."

The bug-man nodded. "Yes, I know," he whispered.

Rosa filled the cup with his mocha. She pushed the mug to him. "But I'm on your side," she said.

The mad scientist smiled. "Thank you, Rose," he said, taking a seat at the bar, holding the mug and rolling it between his hands.

Rose leaned in. "So, how's Susan?" she whispered, smiling. "Did you tell her that you like her?"

The doctor's face burned. "Not yet," he whispered. "I've been meaning to tell her."

He took a sip of his mocha. Rose smiled, pulling a lock of hair out of her face. "You have to tell her at some point," she pointed out.

"I know," he murmured. "I'm just afraid that she'll reject me."

"Oh, c'mon, you're a nice guy," she said, patting his shoulder. "Just tell her."

Dr. Cockroach blew on his coffee, smiling. "I'll see what I can do," he said, after taking a sip.

A man that was the owner came out into the café. He was a tall, German man with blue eyes and blonde hair. He was wearing a nice suit and shoes. He looked right at the bug-man. "I'm going to ask you to leave," he stated in a firm, accented voice.

Dr. Cockroach looked confused. "What?" he asked.

The German-accented man pointed at the door. "Get out," he ordered. "You're not welcomed here."

Rose looked at her boss, and then flashed a look of concern to her monster friend. Dr. Cockroach's antennas lowered and he nodded. "Okay, Rose, can I have this to go?" he asked.

The woman nodded, taking his mug and went to the other part of the café kitchen. Dr. Cockroach looked at the owner. "What did I ever do? I helped save the world."

The man just looked at him. "You are monster," he simply said.

"That's discrimination," the mad scientist growled.

The man never answered. Rose passed over a take-home coffee cup. "Thank you, Rose," Dr. Cockroach whispered, taking the cup. "Bye."

"Bye, Doc," Rose said.

Dr. Cockroach left the café, taking a sip from his cup. People glared at the bug-man and he finally had enough. "What did I ever do!?" he cried.

No one answered. He grunted and walked on. Dr. Cockroach wanted to go home. He went to the edge of the city, finding Monger's plane. The general looked over at him. "You don't look happy," he noted.

"Well, what do you think?" grumbled Dr. Cockroach, taking a seat on the plane. "Everyone hates us."

Monger's brows furrowed. "I know," he whispered, but his voice was still stern. "But there are others that support you."

The mad scientist looked up. "Well, I know, but there's an anti-monster group out there," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

Monger looked at him. "I know," he stated. "Hmm, I wonder who started it."

Dr. Cockroach looked up, not answering and taking a sip of the last of his mocha. Not too far away, Link was on the street, looking hard at a redhead woman wearing a light green dress. The fish-ape smirked and walked over to her. "Hey," he slyly greeted.

The woman glared at the fish-ape and her step quickened. Link followed. "Hey, now, don't be like that," he said.

"Leave me alone," she snapped.

Link wasn't used to that. Ever since he became savior of the world, all women ran to him. Now, they were shunning him. The fish-ape stopped and watched the woman walked on. "Fine," he groaned.

Link looked around for another woman. He found another one. She was a blonde with straight jeans and a frilly blouse. The fish-ape jay-walked the street and went up to her. "Hey, beautiful," he greeted.

The blonde's hand came across, slapping him in the face. He jumped back, rubbing at his sore cheek.

"What the hell?" he snapped, as she walked on.

He grunted. The fish-ape wasn't having a good day. He went to the edge of town, noticing Monger's plane and a depressed-looking mad scientist sitting down, his chin resting on his hand. He was eating the cup that held his mocha. Link walked into the plane, taking a seat next to Dr. Cockroach. "What's up with people nowadays?" he asked, crossing his arms.

B.O.B oozed in, very sad looking. Dr. Cockroach's antenna twitched. "B.O.B, what is wrong?" he asked.

"People don't like me," he whimpered.

Monger looked at the monsters that he knew for fifty years. The general had wed at one point, but eventually divorced his wife. She had never understood his other "marriage" to his country, and complained that he didn't pay enough attention to her. For now, Monger decided that being "married" to his country was enough. And being "married" to said country, he vowed that one day (if by some work of God) the monsters were freed; he would not allow them to be discriminated against. The stern general came to know these monsters as a sort of family. And he was pro-monster. Monger rubbed his hands together. "Well, where's Ginormica?" he asked.

"She should be back," Link dismissed.

Monger nodded. There were then lumbering footsteps. A pair of long legs graced the male monster's view as the legs had a body. "Okay, let's go," she whispered.

Dr. Cockroach looked up. "Are you okay, my dear?" he asked.

Susan entered the plane, taking a seat on the floor of the plane. The doors of the plane were closing. "I'm fine," she whispered.

Link looked up. "Naw, we get the vibe that somethin' wrong," he noted.

The plane took off and Susan felt the jolt. "Well, when I went to visit my cousins, people were yelling at me for no reason," she explained.

Monger sadly listened. He went to the front of the plane with the pilot and sat down in an empty seat. He had a bad feeling about the fate of the monsters.

* * *

A man, commonly referred as The Nerd, walked around a group of people. He was the one that started PANH—most of the War Room folk knew that; all, but the president. You see, the president was pro-monster. Even though the leader of the country was pro-monster, most of the United States was not. The Nerd cleared his throat.

"Mr. President," he stated.

Hathaway was holding up a golf club, and in a powerful pose. In front of him was a painter, who had a canvas in front of him. "What is it, Nerd?" the president asked.

The Nerd twisted his lips, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. "Sir this is important," he stated blandly.

"How important?"

"Very."

Hathaway sighed and came from out of his pose. He rested the golf club to his shoulder. "Can you finish this later?" the president inquired.

"Of course, Sir," the painter stated.

The president nodded. "Good."

Even though the president had The Stigma, he still wanted to live life to the fullest. Hathaway turned to the other smaller man, smiling widely. "What is it?" he asked.

The Nerd pushed up his glasses. "Well, we, as the War Room would like to speak to General Monger, if you'd please," he stated, holding out his hands, pressing them together to that only his fingertips touched.

"Why so?"

"It's about the monsters. We just want to talk to him."

The president arched an eyebrow to the man across from him. He suddenly had an itch where The Stigma was growing on his hand. He tried his best not to scratch. "Fine," grumbled the president. "Yo, Wilson!"

A skinny man glanced up from his controls.

"Get Monger on the line," Hathaway ordered, holding out his golf club like a pointer.

"Which line do you want?"

"Line one."

Just as Wilson was about to press the button for line one, Hathaway stopped him:

"Wait! Try line two!"

Wilson was about to comply, but:

"Wait. Go with line one."

Wilson quickly pressed the first button before the president changed his mind yet again. After a few moments, Monger's stoic face appeared on the main screen. He looked only slightly surprised that the president paged him.

"Yes, Mr. President," he stated.

Hathaway took his seat, placing his hands in his lap. "Yes, hey, general," he greeted. "We need to talk to you in the War Room."

Monger raised an eyebrow. "What about?" he inquired.

"About your monsters and Area . . ." Hathaway paused. He swerved around in his chair and looked at the others surrounding the table. "What's the place called?"

"Area Fifty—"

The man who tried to answer received a dart to the back of his neck. He gagged and fell out of his chair and onto the floor, out like a burnt light. The general sigh as the president turned to him. "Well, um, about your monsters, then," he stated.

"Yes . . .?"

The Nerd gently called the president's name. "Mr. President," he whispered.

"What? Why are we whispering?" Hathaway asked.

"Get him to come here in person."

"Oh? Okay." Hathaway turned back to the confused general. "Um, we want you to come to the War Room," Hathaway explained to the general.

Monger arched his brow. "Yes, Sir." His screen went black. The general had a bad feeling again.


	3. II: War Room woes

**Humanity's Rejects**

**A/N:** Okay, Writerdragon here, again. Solar will be writing the next chapter.

**Disclaimer:** SolarTrigger and I do not own Monsters vs. Aliens, just our respected OCs, peeps.

**War Room Woes**

**II**

General Monger did not like the way the people in the War Room were looking at him. It was almost hateful how they were looking at him. He ignored the piercing stares as he went over to his seat. He sat down, his hands gripped as they rested on the cool table. Hathaway tried his best to be calm, but rubbing his temples constantly made him look like a nervous wreck. The president folded his hands together and looked at the general.

"Want some coffee?" he inquired, trying his best to break the stale silence.

Monger shook his head. "No," he answered. "What is this about?"

The Nerd cleared his throat and looked directly at the southern general, his glasses hanging at the bridge of his nose and his hands folded tightly together. "It is about your monsters," he stated. "We, as the War Room, think that it is best that your little freaks should be locked up."

Monger glared at the man across from him. "Why? They did nothing wrong," he gruffly stated.

The Nerd arched an eyebrow. "So? They may later," he said stiffly. "They aren't humans—they can't be trusted."

The general slammed his hand onto the table. "Absurd!" he bellowed. "Those 'freaks' saved us from impending danger and you want to lock them up? I haven't heard such idiocy!"

Hathaway felt the tension and quickly stood up. "I'm getting a drink," he stated, scurrying away from the table.

He approached the two red buttons that were on the wall. One had many stick notes on it. "Press this and we all die," "No touchy," "Nuclear button," and whatnot was written on the little notes. "This is the coffee button" was written on a sticky note on the other button. After the close shave when Hathaway pressed the nuclear button (the weapons were stopped just in time), people thought it was best that they would remind the president with little notes. It had worked so far. Hathaway pressed the coffee button, patiently waiting for his mug to fill.

"Why would you want to lock up the ones that saved us!?" demanded the general.

"Why did you lock them up before?" the Nerd inquired darkly.

"Because it was my job and I knew people like you would never accept them as part of society," grumbled Monger. "But you must know that these monsters saved our lives and our dear world; we have to give them that right to be free!"

"But they aren't human," stated a man with a shaven head. He was a rank under Monger. "We can't trust them."

"True," stated a young woman with a light purple dress shirt. "One's a mad scientist that can create a fatal weapon out of garbage—"

"Another one is a giantess that can destroy a bridge, which she already did; The Golden Gate Bridge," said a tanned man, crossing his legs.

"There is a blob that can devour anything in his path, including humans," said a black male, who had the same rank as Monger.

"There is a three-hundred foot butterfly that can topple over cities if it wanted to," said a blond woman.

"And there's a creature that his part fish and loves to attack people," the Nerd finished.

Monger could feel the end of his mouth twitch. He narrowed his eyes at everyone that sat around the table. The Nerd smirked. "Now, who here agrees with me that the monsters should be locked away?" the Nerd asked, holding up his hand.

Others soon followed, excluding the general and the president. It was all certain that everyone wanted them locked up. Then a sudden idea struck the general as a sly smirk spread across his lips.

"Don't we have to allow the American public as a whole vote for what they want?"

Everyone was deathly silent as they looked at Monger.

"I mean, we can't just say what we want; we have to allow the people to choose what they want. Give the Americas a choice: allow the monsters to be free or lock them up."

Monger was gambling on this bet, but he had high hopes that most Americans wanted the monsters to be free. The Nerd glared at Monger.

"Okay. Deal. We create our own Acts for the voters."

"Deal."

* * *

The Monster Equality Act: that was General Monger's Act. In its clauses, monsters were to be treated fairly as if they were human and be free.

The Exposure Act: this was the Nerd's Act. By law, monsters must show themselves to the public, display their powers and be taken to Area 5X.

Voting was well on its way. It would be a month until all the ballots would be collected and counted. Monger had told the monsters the news in the War Room. Link was not happy. He was pacing, growling and muttering to himself. Dr. Cockroach watched, his antennas low in sadness. Monger was still, his expression stoic.

"How could they have done this?!" the fish-ape cried, slamming his fists into the metal. "After what we have done for them!"

Link grabbed a chair, throwing it into a wall. Susan cringed, pulling her legs closer to her chest. Insectosaurus let out a strangled sad growl. Monger shook his head. He had to wait patiently as the voters cast in their votes. Then they would see. Susan glanced down at the stiff general.

"Sir, will we be locked up for the rest of our lives?" she asked in a whisper.

Monger did not move. It would be a few moments before he would glance back up at her. Her eyes were wet and bloodshot. Her cheeks were red and her features pained. The general answered her as truthfully as he could:

"I don't know."


	4. III: The Exposure Act

**Humanity's Rejects**

**A/N:** It's me this time! I'm happy to see that you all have enjoyed our story so far. I've done my best to keep the goodness going, and here it is. You'll see Writerdragon in the next chapter, although there's a glimpse of her in here, too. :D

**Disclaimer:** Writerdragon and I do not own Monsters vs. Aliens. Just our respective OCs.

**The Exposure Act**

**III  
**

The weeks that passed while the public voted were stressful on the monsters. Going out became such a problem that they simply stayed within the facility. It was too much trying to ignore the hateful stares, the curse-laden whispers, and the unnecessary paranoia. Area 50-classified was heavy with emotion, and even the scientists and soldiers that worked there missed the crazy antics of the monsters. It brought a sense of camaraderie to the base.

Ginormica, affectionately called Susan, was heartbroken. For the past few weeks, she had gone through millions of paper tissues, and dozens of giant cloth tissues. The ridicule that the public displayed toward her left her feeling unwanted. She thought she would finally be able to prove her own worth by using her abilities to protect the citizens. Susan nearly died at the hands of a control-freak alien for these people, and now she's treated as though she's The Stigma herself; speaking of which, her tears were also for her father, whom she discovered via her mother, had the terrible disease.

Dr. Cockroach and Link had similar reactions. Both were disgusted by how they were being alienated by a majority of the human population. The difference was that Dr. C resorted to heated conversations about how he was disappointed in this turn of events, and Link more-or-less destroyed anything that was nearby. Dr. Cockroach tried to restrain him most of the time, and this led to the two of them arguing. The fight would only cease once they caught a glimpse of Susan's worried expression.

Insectosaurus seemed down as well. The poor butterfly's wings appeared to droop more often, and even Link was having a hard time getting the insect to talk. B.O.B. whimpered a lot and said that he needed a hug; apparently his jello had left him soon after people began making it obvious that they didn't like him.

Monger was having a rough time himself. Having to deal with occasional calls from The Nerd is a form of torture that no being should have to endure. However, this being General W.R. Monger, he handled it with style. When he wasn't busy with his duties around the facility or messing with The Nerd, Monger had been working nonstop to promote the freedom of the monsters. He was a bit surprised at the hostility that was presented towards him; these malevolent feelings were only expressed in glares. Whatever he supported, Monger was an intimidating guy.

* * *

Still, that influence didn't seem to be as powerful as it once was. Monger was currently in the War Room, looking up at a screen that displayed the statistics of the poll. The monsters had hoped for the best when he was called to survey the results.

The public can really let you down, can't it?

The Nerd smirked, arching his fingers, his elbows on the table. "Well, General, the American public thinks that those freaks you harbor want to be locked up," he said smugly. "My act, the Exposure Act, won the vote; seventy-five percent for mine, twenty-five percent for yours. The Supreme Court ruled it as law. I win."

_For _now, Monger thought as he glared daggers at the man smiling smugly at him. He bit down, gripping his fist. "You know, those monsters saved us from the end," he growled. "How nit-witted can you be?"

The Nerd smirked. "It doesn't matter, I win, the public agrees with me," he said. "So, go and collect those freaks of yours, lock them up and throw away the key. They're going to stay in there until they die."

The general gripped his fist until he could no longer feel senses in his palm. Hathaway looked at the general. He personally didn't want to lock up the monsters. He wasn't the brightest man in the room, but he understood that these monsters were good and that their only crime was just being different. The general gave a snort. "Those monsters saved us," he repeated. "They should be free." Monger looked up, his eyes hateful. "You closed-minded people must be senile. They've done nothing wrong."

The Nerd smirked. "Who cares, The Exposure Act has past and Mr. President is to issue it next week," he stated.

Behind the two standing men, the table was full of smirking faces, except for one. That face was sad and belonged to President Hathaway. The president sighed and stood up as well.

"Gentlemen, the votes have been tallied and it's clear: The Exposure Act will go into effect."

Monger furrowed his brows and turned to the black-haired president, who sighed and now had his head low.

"So, you monster-loving freak, get used to it," The Nerd hissed, adjusting his glasses. "And expect more freaks to be added to your collection."

"What?" the general inquired. Then he remembered. One clause in the Act was that every monster had to show themselves to the public, display their powers, and be locked away at Area 5X for the rest of their lives. And any new monster caught had to be showed to the public, like you would display a prize. It was degrading.

The Nerd looked over at the president and stood up. "Come, Mr. President, we must practice your speech," he said calmly.

Hathaway shot the general a sympathetic look before getting up and following the Nerd. Monger was still in his seat, receiving sniggers and smug looks from the other War Room advisers. The general growled; got up from his seat, and left . . . He didn't want to tell the saviors of the planet that they weren't free anymore. It pained him.

Monger remained silent as he left the War Room, ignoring the chuckles of victory from the others minus the president. After the rage died down, regret took its place as the thought of locking up innocents weighed on Monger's mind.

* * *

Meanwhile, along a huge boardwalk that led away from the San Francisco shipyard, a figure was seen darting into the shadows, cradling something close to its chest. Sounds of frustration could faintly be heard from the opposite side of the wharf. People walked by and didn't seem to notice the figure inch across the side of a building.

When the coast was clear, said figure took off like lightning down the boardwalk, which became less populated as it neared the shipyard. The figure was barely illuminated by a streak of light from a warehouse: a flash of bright blond hair, narrow face, long neck, and light-white skin.

It was evident that this figure was heading toward an abandoned ship that sat idle in the shipyard. For a brief moment, the figure was illuminated once more, and this time one could see that said figure was slender and wearing a pair of cracked sunglasses.

Oh yes, it would be wise to also state that this figure was female. She sprinted on slightly wide feet toward the dilapidated vessel, sunglasses warding off the rare slivers of light. The mystery woman reached the ship, glanced around, and then went inside.


	5. IV: Three Sisters

**Humanity's Rejects**

**A/N:** *Writerdragon slides in and falls flat on face* Ow. Anyways, the almighty Dragon is back. Not like you peeps care. So, I guess you peeps like our story. That's good—ya should. Thanks for the reviews, it makes us feel good. And if anyone of you read my fic Dreams follow Nightmares, there's some spoilers for my main OC Brionni, but none of ya really care. Right? ;D Oh, ja, I'll be writing the next chapter too, apparently picked the chapters that were back-to-back. D: Onward! And Solar helped my sorry butt out at the end. Kudos to her.

**Disclaimer:** We, SolarTrigger and I, don't own Monsters vs. Aliens, but our OCs.

**Three Sisters**

**IV  
**

There was an abandoned ship. No one wanted it. It just sat there and rotted. It was a perfect place for a trio of monsters to hide. And three monsters were in there. A slender, tall tiger-like monster sat in a rickety chair, her legs propped up on a filthy metal desk. Her tail was slung over her lap as she listened to _Sweet dreams and made of these_ on a radio, which was on its last leg. The tigress wore an old, smelly dress. The other monster did not even look like a monster. She was a black female with course dirty black hair. On her right side were blue swirls that went from her cheek all the way to her left side. Her arm, her neck and downward. Her eyes were a deep brown and a red ring circled her pupil. She was reading a tattered book. She was wearing ripped shorts and a holey shirt.

"Hello, hello!" came a too-cheery cry.

Both females glanced up. A blonde, human-looking person stood at the opening of the ship. In a sudden flash, her frame transformed. She became a monster. She had fangs, long deer ears, gargoyle-feet, huge gargoyle-wings with little claw-hands at the top of the wings. She had blue scales that scattered along her body, mostly at her shoulders, neck and collarbone; on her other limbs they were spread out and scattered in chucks. She also had spikes on her knees and elbows. She had a long tail with a forked tip in the shape of the heart and a triangle at the tip. She had long, black nails and her eyes were cat-like. One eye was red and the other eye was a deep shade of green. The normally white parts of the eyes were gold. She also had horns that were very ram-like. She was wearing a back-less shirt (for her wings) and a long, torn skirt.

"I present to ye dinner," she stated, throwing a loaf of bread at the table.

June Carmichael, the tigress monster, looked at the loaf of bread. "That's what you got?" she inquired.

Brionnilavic Danforski, commonly known as "Brionni," glared at the tigress. "Hey, if it's good enough for Jesus Christ, it's good enough for you," she growled.

June stood up. "We're starving, and you get bread," she snapped.

Brionni's bone claws came out of her knuckles. They extended sixteen inches. This was one of her powers she had. June stood up. Christo Alighieri, known as "Christi," stood up and stood between them. She held up her hands. "Okay, let's not be rash—"

"Christi, move," June hissed.

"Scat," Brionni added in.

The black female stepped back, her eyes wide, and the two jumped at each other. They wrestled on the floor as Brionni became a wolf and snapped her jaws. In a matter of minutes, June had Brionni in a headlock. "So, you've been in every American War, and I beat you?" June asked with a smirk.

Brionni struggled from the tigress's grip. "Yeah, yeah," she whispered, shaking out her legs.

She jumped up, becoming her gargoyle form. Christi sighed. "I wish you two didn't fight as much as you do," she stated sadly.

Brionni glanced up at June and then turned her attention to Christi. She sat up and walked over to her. Most of the time she would walk on all fours, like a cross between a wolf and a gorilla. Her hands were folded in so she would walk on her knuckles and her body movement was that of a jaguar or wolf. She joined Christi on the table, her weight made the object cry a squeak.

"Oh, c'mon, Christi, you know we love each other," Brionni stated, her clawed hand to her breast.

"Ya, no matter how dumb they are," June smirked.

"Hush, you," Brionni hissed.

Christi eyed them. "I know, I know, but you two are so . . . _violent_."

Brionni let out a laugh. "Yeah, we are!" she cried. "Trust me, when you go through a traumatic childhood and join ev'ry freakin' war that the United States fought it, you be in bad shape too."

June scoffed, leaning against the wall of the ship. The black female nodded. "Hey, Brionni, I want to look at yer left wing," she said.

Brionni froze. "Why?" she inquired.

"You _know_ why."

"Well, you know it en't gunna get better."

"Brionni."

The blonde sighed as her wings shuffled. She unhooked her wing from her shoulder and opened it. On the inside of her left wing was The Stigma. It was about the size of two hands put together. Christi gently grabbed the sides of Brionni's wing and observed it. June frowned.

"It's worse," the tigress whispered.

Brionni yanked her wing from Christi's gentle grip. "Of course it is," Brionni grumbled. "The Stigma is incurable. It just gets worse."

She joined the floor and curled up like a dog, her wings spread on the metal flooring. Christi shared a worried look with her non-blood sister. Brionni would die in a matter of two years. The black girl suddenly looked at the radio.

"The news is going to be on," she stated knowingly.

"So?" Brionni asked.

"It's about the voting for our freedom."

Brionni's head shot up from her hands. June glanced up from looking at her feet. Christi aimed her hand at the radio. Her left hand was outlined purple and the radio soon joined the same thing. The small machine flipped on. Christi could control anything with her mind. It was one of her powers. A thick Spanish voice filtered from the radio:

_"Today is the tally for the voting," _he stated._ "For about a month, the American public had a choice whether to imprison the monsters for good or let them free—"_

Christi already knew what the result was. She frowned.

_"—and it was voted that The Exposure Act won the general vote. Seventy-five to twenty-five. A perfect record—"_

Brionni's heart dropped to her stomach. June looked at the radio with a stunned expression.

_"What?"_ Brionni growled, her torso lifting up as she supported her weight on her knuckles.

_"Man, this is sad. I was hoping that the monsters would go free, but there is nothing I can do," _the man on the radio stated._ "In other news—"_

Brionni lost control and slapped the radio from its stand. It flew across the air and smashed into the left wall. She was snarling, much like a rabid wolf. June slightly cringed as she saw her sister pace the floor, snorting and hissing. Her tail was wagging madly. Her three-toed claw feet tapped on the metal flooring and her knuckles thumped loudly.

"Those damn humans!" Brionni yelled. "How could they!? Those monsters saved us! _Those bastards!"_ She turned to her sisters, her face cringed. "See what I said about them? All humans are like that! They are minimal-minded beings that are destructive to themselves and our planet!"

Christi looked calmly at her sister. "Brionni, are we no different?" she asked softly. "You've killed many, I've killed. June's killed—we are like them."

"No. No. _NO_!!" Brionni screamed. "We are better than them! We are more advanced than them! We are better! See what they've done to those wonderful monsters that saved us? They've locked 'em up!"

June looked at Christi, her face still. "You know, I agree with her," the tigress stated.

Brionni turned to the tigress, a little stunned and surprised. She then looked at Christi and stood up on her legs. "See, even June agrees with me," she stated. "June _never_ agrees with me."

"I understand, but not all humans are like that," Christi gently said. "The people in the MATS wanted to help our kind."

Brionni nodded, looking off to the side. "Yeah, yeah, okay, they are okay, and that general what's-his-face is okay too," she stated.

"General Monger," June stated flatly.

Brionni snapped her fingers at the tigress. "Yes, thank you," she stated. "He's okay, too."

June looked at Brionni, mainly focusing on her cracked sunglasses. "Why do you wear those?" she asked, pointing at the sunglasses.

Brionni blinked, and pulled the glasses off her face, observing the crack. "These are my favorite glasses," she whimpered.

"But they're cracked."

"I'll get new ones when these break."

The lens on her glasses suddenly popped out and broke on the floor. Christi giggled as June smirked. Brionni threw them at the wall, the force causing them to break. She shook her head and sighed. "I guess I'll get new ones," she whispered, going to the loaf of bread.

The three unrelated sisters shared the loaf of bread amongst each other. Brionni spoke of her little adventure as she stole the bread. She said that she would never go back to that quickie market again; the owner chased her out with a metal bat. The sun began to set the inside of the ship darkened. June turned on a light and a cylinder of light illuminated the ship. Christi glanced up.

"You know, the President is going to issue the Act to public on Friday," Christi stated.

"Geesh, what don't you know?" Brionni asked.

Christi smiled. "Everything," she whispered.

June yawned. "Okay, we'll go," she stated. "I'm going to bed." The tigress sat up and retreated to her mattress. She flopped on it and curled up in it.

"Me, too," Brionni stated. She jumped up onto her bed and curled up much like a cat on it.

Christi followed, turning off the light and retreated to her bed. "Goodnight, June," she stated.

"Goodnight, Christi."

"Goodnight, Brionni," the black stated.

"Goodnight, sis," Brionni answered. "Goodnight, June."

No answer.

"Goodnight, June."

Still no answer.

"JUNE!!"

"Alright, alright, goodnight, goodnight!" June hollered back.

"You know you love me."

"Shut-up."

Brionni chuckled and curled tightly into herself, all three of them falling into a deep sleep.

…At least, they would have if not for the ominous thoughts that plagued their minds.

From her mattress, purposefully facing away from the others, June's expression was softer than what it was earlier. She may be rude, sarcastic, and fight with Brionni on a daily basis, but she was truly worried about her non-blood sister, not to mention the fate of their little family. Life was hard enough before The Exposure Act; now it would be near impossible. The tigress inwardly vowed that she would protect her sisters with her life if necessary.

Christi looked at June and Brionni from where she lay. She didn't have to read their minds to know that something troubled them, especially since she was in the same boat. Even though The Exposure Act was soon to be a law, Christi still believed that, someday, enough people would see the error of their ways, and free the monsters. She didn't like the idea of Earth's heroes being locked up anymore than the others did, but Christi thought that it would be better to maintain a positive mentality about the situation. The black monster knew that humans changed their opinions all the time, and hoped that now would be one of those times, for her sisters', terminal and brusque, sakes.

Brionni knew that Christi and June weren't asleep, but she was too agitated to say anything. Those humans! Who gave them the right to go damning everything different from them to a hellish life?! How would they feel if the tables were turned? Brionni shuddered; the thought of being human made her feel sick inside. Her thoughts briefly strayed to her infected wing, but then returned to something safer; bashing the human race. She would have continued her inner rant if she hadn't heard the others gentle breathing. They had finally fallen asleep. Brionni's lips parted at the ghost of a sigh, and she reluctantly accepted that she was indeed tired. Besides, she would need all her energy for the president's announcement tomorrow.


	6. V: Discrimination

**Humanity's Rejects**

**A/N:** Hey, um, the moron is back. Whoooooo, I'm so amazing. Don't worry; SolarTrigger will be back in the next chapter.

**Disclaimer:** We, Solar and I, own nothing but this fic idea and our respected OCs.

**Discrimination**

**V  
**

"When was the last time we bathed?" Brionni inquired, sniffing at her thick wolf fur.

"A month and a half," Christi answered, a little disgusted by the fact.

June glanced up, her hair matted and dirty. Her ears perked up slightly as she lifted her head up from her flat pillow. She twitched her nose, her whiskers following her upper lip. "Damn, been that long?" she inquired.

Brionni lifted up her fat, wolf head, her brown fur stunk like death. Her ears rotated to June and she snorted deeply. "I guess so," she stated.

Christi looked at her sisters, a frown upon her lips. "Well, do you still want to do to that presentation?" she questioned. "I mean, the president will be here in San Francisco in Union Square. Still wish to go?"

Brionni stood up, her back arched. "Of course," she snarled, her sharp teeth flashed in the open. "I want to know exactly what the Act says."

June nodded, her ears flat to her head. "I agree," she said, waving out her hand.

Brionni glanced at June, still surprised that the tigress agreed with her for the second time. "Thank you," Brionni said, nodding her head shortly.

June smirked. "This will be the last time I agree with you," she stated.

"Uh-huh."

Christi swung her legs over the bed and stood up. "Well, if we're going, let's move," she stated with a smile. "I mean, it'll start in an hour."

"But what about jungle-girl?" Brionni asked, ignoring June's glare. "I mean, I can turn into some random animal or human, you look like a human . . . What about her?"

June hissed, her fur lifted up. "Watch it," she snarled. "But she does have a point."

Christi thought for a moment. A smile broke onto her face and she snapped her fingers. "I have an idea," she stated.

* * *

June was extremely hot. Why? Because she was wearing a long coat that covered her whole body, she had a turban around her face, only her eyes showed. Brionni was a tabby cat that trotted around Christi's feet. She had a smirk on her furry face. June looked like a Muslim, which Brionni had quoted. Christi took offense to that when she stated that her far-removed cousins were Muslim (even though when her parents died, they took no heed to look after her). Brionni quickly apologized. People looked oddly at the threesome as they went to look for Union Square. There, completely covered with people, there was Union Square. There was a stand with the American colours all displayed and bodyguards stood, their hands in front of them, all wearing black sunglasses and black suits. Brionni squeezed through the crowd, her long tail curled up at the tip. She wanted to see the front better. She stopped when several humans blocked her way. She crinkled her nose. Next to Brionni was a human child. He wore little overalls and had red hair. He looked at her, his little hand out to touch her.

"Kitty," he stated, trying to touch her.

Brionni hobbled away from him, not wanting to be touched by the human child. His mother, a tall white-blonde-haired woman glanced down at her son. She was wearing a light blue business suit and black high-heels. She pulled her son's arm back, looking at him.

"Leave the kitty alone," she whispered to her son. "You can play with the kitty later."

Brionni glared at the human child. Man, did she _despise_ mankind. They were a destructive race that thought of nothing but themselves. She hated them. Brionni jumped off, getting closer to the front. She approached the front of the crowd and perched herself there. It was out-of-place to see a feline in the front of a large mass of humans, but they ignored the monster. Christi and June were at the back, June trying her best to look over the crowd.

"Where's Brionni?" the tigress asked.

"At the front," Christi stated knowingly.

"Of course."

Just then, a wave of applause rushed over the crowd. The President of the United States came out, his bodyguards right at his side. Brionni noticed that he had a slight frown on his lips. Her ear flicked as the human leader stepped to the microphone. A blonde bodyguard came up to him, placing a packet of papers in front of him. The crowd died down as the president cleared his throat and fixed his tie. Cameraman began to film him on national television.

"Hello," the president greeted. "And thank you for your warm welcome. As of last month, America had a vote to choose one of two Acts: The Exposure Act and The Monster Equality Act. Exactly seventy-five percent of the American public has picked The Exposure Act. It will go into action tomorrow at one in the morning."

A sudden cheer erupted from the crowd. Brionni hissed. But there was a sudden shout. A man that appeared to be half-Mexican, half-white had his hand up. His lips were twisted as he glared at the president and crowd. He had an accusing finger pointed at the crowd.

"You have no right!" he cried, his accent thick. "They saved us from demise! You have no right! They're people too!"

Brionni and her two sisters smiled at the man for his bravery. The mob booed him and shouted out displeasing things. Posing as a threat, he was tackled and handcuffed. He did not fight back. The man was shoved into the police vehicle as they drove off. The president frowned. It wasn't like he enjoyed doing this. He cleared his throat and continued.

"Anyways, um, in one of the clauses in The Exposure Act, any new monster found are to be shown to the public and taken to a secret government-run facility, which will be unnamed," the president continued.

Brionni growled.

_**Brionni, let's give ourselves up.**_

Brionni blinked in surprise that the voice had just entered her head. But she knew who it was.

_Christi, get out of my head, _she thought_. How many times have I told you that? And what are you saying?! You want to give up our freedom for these damn humans?!_

_**Brionni, June and I have agreed that it would be best**_, Christi gently said. _**Please understand. It's for the best.**_

The other monster thought about it. No. No. She did not want to give up her freedom. But, now she had no choice . . . Brionni hissed, her ears lowering. Christi could sense her anger.

_**Brionni . . .**_

_Fine. Fine! Okay, what now?_

_**Just wait a moment.**_

The president cleared his throat. "I know this is a stretch," he stated. "But, are there any monsters here? It is better to give yourself up."

"So, you want some monsters?"

Everyone jumped back, looking at the cat in front of them. Brionni stood up on her little paws, glancing around. The president looked at the cat with a stunned surprise. He pushed up his glasses as he looked at the feline. Brionni-cat jumped up onto stage and glared at the leader of the president.

"So, here I am. You happy? My sisters are here too. Want them as well?"

Brionni's cat-skin was ripped off and her gargoyle form was revealed. Everyone gasped and there were a few audible screams. Brionni glared at the mass of humans. Christi sighed, rubbing at her temples.

_**Why are you so rash?**_

Brionni ignored her sister. She turned to glance over the crowd and spotted her sisters. "What? This is what you wanted!" Brionni cried. "This was your idea, Christo!"

Christi frowned and June growled. The crowd looked at them, confused and disoriented. June ripped off her headpiece and dropped it to the ground. The mass of humans stepped back like they were plagued. June snarled at the crowd. Christi grabbed June's furry stripped arm and pulled her along.

"C'mon, June," Christi whispered softly.

The president looked at the blue-scaled monster in front of him. He could sense the hate radiate from her being. Brionni's long ears were low and her lips were curled up. As June and Christi winded through the crowd, they stepped back in fear and disgust. Brionni boiled in hate and rage.

"You bloody humans!" Brionni bellowed. "We are different so much by the way we look, but we are the same! We experience emotions, like love! We have families! Those two are my only family! You humans are locking away those who saved us from that alien! You humans! The hell with ya!"

The crowd looked unfazed by her speech. The president looked at her with a surprised face. Brionni and the leader of the country shared a look. His mouth clamped closed and looked at her. He frowned.

"I'm sorry," Hathaway whispered.

Brionni looked at him, her wings securely around her shoulders in a form of comfort. "At least you care," she whispered in return.

A group of men approached Brionni from behind. The blonde turned sharply and on stuck a taser into her side, electrocuting her. She howled in pain as she dropped to the ground. June and Christi gasped, the black female tried to approach the gargoyle, but she was grabbed and handcuffed. The tigress looked at Brionni and she, too, was handcuffed. Brionni groaned, the skin on her waist healing slowly with a hiss. A man with silver handcuffs pressed her to the ground and cuffed her hands. Brionni set glares to the humans that surrounded her. They were stuffed into a metal plane and they sat on the metal seats. Brionni's face was stiff as she sat down, her tail limp on the floor. Christi looked at her friend.

"You happy?" Brionni growled.

Christi did not answer. She chose not to. She remained silent on the plane-ride.


	7. VI: Meet the Monsters

**Humanity's Rejects**

**A/N:** I'm alive! I apologize for letting this story remain stagnant for months. I lost my inspiration to write this, but thanks to Writerdragon, I've finally finished the chapter. The next chapter I write shouldn't take nearly as long. And kudos to Writerdragon for helping me with the structure of this chapter. Enjoy! And Dragon will be in the next chapter. :3

**Disclaimer:** Writerdragon and I do not own Monsters vs. Aliens, just our respective OCs and the fic idea. We also do not own the songs Fences by Paramore or In the hands of love by Vittorio Grigolo.

**Meet the monsters**

**VI  
**

The three monsters were silent as the plane flew them to an unknown destination. June was looking up at the ceiling of the aircraft, her face stony. Christi was looking down at her hands in her lap, her body language conveying concern. She glanced up at one of the soldiers, and he turned away. She said nothing and returned her gaze to her lap. Brionni showed the most emotion. Though she was stiff, her eyes blazed with a soul-deep rage at how she and her sisters were being treated. The soldiers kept an extremely close eye on her.

Unknown to the female monsters, on an upper level of the plane there resided a few scientists from the facility. Their eyes were filled with sympathy at the new recruits. One of the younger female scientists thought that the radio would calm the monsters, if only a little. Without consulting the others, she turned to a console and flipped a switch. After a little static, music began to flow through the speakers, reaching the ears of the monsters below.

_I'm sitting in a room made up of only big white walls_

_And in the hall, there are people looking through_

_The window in the door_

_They know exactly what we're here for_

_Don't look up, just let them think_

_There's no place else you'd rather be_

_You're always on display_

_For everyone to watch and learn from_

_Don't you know by now? You can't turn back_

_Because this road is all you'll ever have_

June's ears perked at the music, and she inwardly wondered _why_ they were playing music. This wasn't a vacation; she and her family were going to a prison, never to be seen by the public eye again. At least, that was the intention. June was already contemplating how they would escape. Unbeknownst to her, Brionni had similar thoughts. The gargoyle was finally calming down after the tussle at Union Square, though she couldn't suppress a scowl at the memory of being struck with a taser.

_And it's obvious that you're dying, dying_

_Just living proof that the camera's lying_

_And oh, oh, open wide, 'cause this is your night_

_So smile, 'cause you'll go out in style_

_If you let me, I could_

_I'd show you how to build your fences_

_Set restrictions, separate from the world_

_The constant battle that you hate to fight_

_Just blame the limelight_

Christi glanced up when the music suddenly turned off. She thought she heard a faint nervous chuckle coming from a speaker near her. The soldiers rolled their eyes and kept their weapons pointed at the trio. The black noticed that her companions wore slight expressions of askance, and she knew it was because of the random music.

_**A scientist was just trying to…help**_, she told them.

_A lot of good that did_, the tigress and gargoyle answered at the same time.

Christi couldn't help a small smile. Her two sisters didn't realize how alike they were. All thoughts were interrupted when the plane landed with a solid thud. The soldiers prodded the girls with the tips of their guns.

"Get up, we're here," one of them muttered.

June hissed and Brionni growled, but one look at Christi's pleading face got them moving. The door to the plane opened and lowered to the ground. The trio was escorted down the ramp, and they got their first look at the facility. It was huge, housing tons of complex machinery, various hallways, and an uncomfortable amount of glass windows. It would be important to note that all of this was also underground, thus the extreme amount of fluorescent lights.

This cold, leering, metal cave was to be their "home".

June's ears pressed against her head in irritation, Brionni's face was stoic, and Christi chewed her bottom lip as the trio was marched down a hallway and onto a platform. The soldiers stopped, and the female monsters wondered what they were waiting for. The sound of a jetpack soon answered the unasked question.

A handsome older man with a stern expression hovered before them. Brionni twitched subtly, and frowned to herself. She felt something towards this man that caught her off guard and irritated her: an attraction. It was _just_ strong enough for her to realize that it was there, and if she wasn't mistaken, she saw the same look in the man's eyes. He stared at her for half a second before addressing all three of them.

"Ladies, the name's General W. R. Monger. As you may or may not be aware of, I run this facility. Now, let's get on with the orientation."

He flew a bit further above them, and the three females lost balance for a few moments as the platform moved. The soldiers pointed their guns at them, and gazed at them with untrusting eyes as the women righted themselves. Ignoring the soldiers, Christi noticed that the general seethed with displeasure, but that it wasn't directed at them, per say. He talked about how the facility was founded and whatnot, but he seemed distracted. June kept her arms crossed and remained tense the entire time. Brionni would once in a while glance at Monger, but other than that she stayed still and too quiet.

The tour was over pretty quick, and Monger dismissed the soldiers. After they saluted and left, he eyed each monster before him, mentally regretting what he was doing them. Monger took in their haggard appearance; they looked like that might have lived in the slums before being captured. The general also noticed something else about them: a fierce defiance. The tigress and gargoyle almost radiated with it, but the black seemed more composed, as if off-setting the other two.

"Well?" Brionni growled as they stood there in silence for a few seconds, interrupting the general's thoughts.

"…Ya'll can get cleaned up if ya like. Showers are just down that hallway. Your uniforms will be ready ya finish," Monger explained.

Christi nodded to Monger, and the platform began to move them in the direction of the showers. Though no soldiers accompanied them, they could quite clearly see cameras following the platform, as well as guns poised at the ready in case they should try something. Brionni bristled at the guns, fighting the urge to try and smash every last one of them. Christi read her thoughts.

_**Don't**_, she warned, _**the minute you try anything, they'll shoot. Some of the soldiers here are even willing to shoot Monger 'cause he's pro-monster. Just please stay still; we can talk when we're alone.**_

_Like we're ever really alone in this place_, Brionni countered. Christi sighed, causing June to raise an eyebrow in askance. The black simply shook her head.

The platform stopped in front of a large door. Monger nodded to the female monsters.

"See ya when yer done."

* * *

"Those _humans_!" Brionni seethed as hot water pummeled her body.

The trio was currently bathing in an army style shower, and approximately one minute had passed before Brionni made her feelings known. Christi sighed and looked over at the gargoyle.

"Brionni, I know how you feel, but there's not much we can do right now. Let's just be thankful that we can finally take a shower," she said.

"So much dirt in my fur…" June muttered as she furiously scrubbed her body with the soap that was provided.

"Careful, don't scrub yourself raw," Christi cautioned.

"Don't change the subject, you two! We're in a _prison_! All because those damn close-minded, idiotic pests think we're a danger to their race!" Brionni continued to rant, growing angrier with each statement. June and Christi quickly picked up on the swelling emotion.

"Brionni," Christi softly began, "Don't prove them right by acting like this. I know you're upset, so am I, but riling yourself up will bring more harm than good."

"Not to mention it makes us fit the definition of the word 'monsters'," June added, smacking water into Brionni's face.

The gargoyle growled at the tigress, but understood what she and Christi were talking about. It was just hard to sit back and act like she didn't care, and she vaguely wondered how Christi was able to do it. She grew quiet after that and began lathering herself, trying to focus on the action so her mind wouldn't wander back to more unpleasant subjects. The black and tigress glanced at her again before resuming their former actions.

Time progressed in silence for a while, and then the monsters started washing their hair. Christi glanced at Brionni before speaking.

"So, did anyone else besides me notice something…troubling the general?"

"Like what? Besides the new law crap," June commented. Her voice was slightly muffled by the steam that now filled the room.

"I dunno. Something like…tension," Christi offered.

Brionni froze. Had Christi noticed what had happened between her and the general? She stifled the want to glance at her physic friend; she wouldn't be too surprised if she had sensed anything. She just hoped that she wouldn't say anything with June around; she'd never hear the end of it.

"Mmm. The guy's a general; he's probably always tense," June responded.

"Yeah, I would be too if I had to look at soldiers all day," Brionni said.

June continued to wash her hair, but the gargoyle could feel her other sister's gaze in her direction, despite the steam, and inwardly wished for her to drop the subject. Luckily, Christi somehow seemed to get the hint, and said no more.

* * *

The now freshly bathed female monsters had donned their respective uniforms, and were currently on the same platform as before. Monger was there, the jetpack still strapped to his back, except this time he was actually standing on the platform with them. He told them that it was time for them to meet the other monsters at the facility.

All three of them were garbed in Area 5X uniforms, though they differed slightly with each monster. June had shorts instead of pants, no shoes, and her jacket had short sleeves. Brionni had a dark tank top instead of a jacket, and she didn't wear shoes either. Christi also had a tank top, and wore her jacket tied around her waist; she was obviously the only one who wore shoes.

The group remained silent until the platform stopped in front of a ridiculously large door. Monger activated his jetpack again, and flew up to a control panel. Unfortunately, his back kept the panel out of few, and when he finished, the panel was no longer there. He glanced back at them, and something about his gaze told them that not even he knew where the panel had disappeared to.

The door began to open, sliding up into the wall. Vast, bright light blinded the monsters for a moment, but their eyes eventually adjusted. Brionni hissed from the pain that hit her eyes as a result of said light. Monger looked down at her, and then retrieved something from his jacket and threw it at her. Brionni caught it on instinct, and was surprised to see a pair of sunglasses. Without a word of gratitude, she put the specs on and walked into the room before her with her sisters.

It was a spacious room with a tall ceiling, and a few doors that were similar to the one they had just walked through were scattered along a side wall. The only furniture in the room was two tables; one that looked about the size of any normal table, and one that was proportionately big enough for a giant, or a gian_tess_.

Speaking of the tall woman, Susan was currently curled up next to a giant butterfly, who was watching a cockroach man, blue blob, and green fish-man playing cards without any enthusiasm. However, when Monger cleared his throat, they looked up, and were surprised to discover the new arrivals.

Brionni nodded at the other monsters, Christi smiled, and June looked away. No one seemed to want to talk with the general near. Monger knew this, and said something about coming back in a few minutes. Once the door shut, it remained quiet for a few seconds before the cockroach man skittered over to the trio and politely bowed.

"Hello, my dears. I'm Dr. Cockroach," he said, offering his hand to them.

Christi shook it, June ignored it, and Brionni shook it as well; the latter even found herself smiling at his British accent. Dr. Cockroach glanced uneasily at the tigress who was still looking away. Brionni rolled her eyes at her feline sister.

"Don't mind her; she's a cold, heartless kitty," Brionni said, earning a growl from said "kitty", "The name's Brionnilavic Danforski, but you can call me Brionni."

"I'm Christo Alighieri, but please call me Christi," the black said next. After a short pause, she nudged the tigress who rolled her eyes, but obliged.

"June Carmichael," she stated short and crisp.

By now, the monsters had edged closer to the new arrivals. The blue blob nearly knocked Dr. Cockroach down in his haste to get closer to the young women.

"Hi! I'm B.O.B.!" he exclaimed, single red eye gazing curiously at them.

"Hi, guys. I'm Ginormica, but you can call me Susan if you want," the giantess said, a sweet smile on her pretty face.

Even June couldn't be completely rude to that face, so she actually muttered a soft 'Hello' to the giantess, much to Christi's approval. After that, the butterfly screeched and snorted at the young women, along with a smile that showed off a pair of buck teeth. The fish-man was about to say something when June beat him to the punch.

"That's Insectosaurus, who said hey to all of us," she explained.

"You can understand Insecto? Impressive," he commented before striking a tough guy pose, "The Missing Link. Just call me Link, ladies."

Christi giggled and Brionni and June unknowingly rolled their eyes at the same time. June then narrowed her eyes at the fish-man. Link noticed her looking at him and smirked.

"Like what you see?" he asked, flexing his muscles once more.

"You're fat," she replied in a flat tone.

"What?!" Link bristled, narrowing his eyes at the tigress.

Brionni chose that moment to walk closer to Link and poke him in the stomach. A mischievous grin turned the corners of her lips upward.

"Didn't know The Missing Link had a beer gut," she commented.

Link growled. "Its muscle," he seethed.

"Muscle doesn't jiggle," June countered, actually managing to make Brionni snicker.

"Now, Link, be nice," Susan started. Dr. Cockroach just stared blankly at the fish-ape.

"It's no use, Susan. June likes picking fights," Christi sighed.

"At least it's not with me this time," Brionni said, amused by the sight before her.

B.O.B.'s single red eye was wide in wonder. He oozed over and poked Link in the stomach as well.

"They're right! You need to work out more, Link," the blue blob answered sagely, laughing at the end. June smirked at Link, who proceeded to enter the tigress' personal bubble. Though he was roughly a foot taller than her, June didn't look intimidated by him.

"You got a problem?" he asked in a tense whisper.

"Yeah, it's green and smells like sushi," she replied in the same tone, balling up her fists in preparation.

However, before Link and June could begin fighting, the door opened again. Monger hovered through with an angry yet tired expression on his face.

"Monsters, get back in your cells," he commanded.

Link glared at June once more before taking long, loping strides towards his respective door. Susan sighed, stood up, and quietly walked to her door after waving at the others. Insectosaurus was distracted by a panel of bright lights that were brought in via helicopter, and walked away. Dr. Cockroach quickly skittered to his door, and B.O.B. barely managed to ooze into his room before the door shut on him. Brionni, Christi, and June looked at Monger. He didn't say a word and simply led them to three other doors after Susan's.

Christi was next to Susan, Brionni next to her, and then June in the farthest cell. The women looked back at Monger, who simply stared them down until they grew wearing of the staring contest and went into their cells. Christi seemed hesitant, Brionni's face had regained its stoic composure, and June's tail twitched in irritation. Monger swore that he would never forget the final looks he received from the three sisters before the doors to their cells shut.

* * *

The general was now in his office, sitting at the desk and listening to the radio; a shot of scotch was in his hand. He had locked himself in his office to escape from the rest of the facility. While the scientists had seemed more sympathetic, the soldiers seemed to be enjoying parading the monsters like animals, whispering profane opinions about them when they thought he couldn't hear. Monger was still an intimidating man, after all.

_Somewhere there's a man who's dreaming  
And while he sleeps, someone is scheming to undermine  
Over time  
More headlines bring more confusion  
Our leaders draw their own conclusions for you and me  
But do they see  
There's a wind of change that's blowing  
And a hunger ever growing  
Can you hear the voice of revolution this time?  
As the heroes rise in glory  
And the brave recount their story  
Is there any sense in fighting fire with fire_

Monger drank from the glass again and sighed as the song played. Despite being a feared general, he felt useless. What could he do to turn things around and help the monsters regain their freedom? He couldn't believe that the public would so easily disregard the near alien invasion and lock their saviors away. Monger loved his country, but some of the people in it… He took another drink from the glass.

_Leave tomorrow in the hands of love  
Hear the cry of freedom rise above  
All our hearts will beat in time  
All we want is peace of mind  
I hear laughter through the crying  
I know that on this new horizon  
There'll be no tears, if there's no fear  
All the theories that divide us  
Maybe someday will unite us  
If only we could see through our children's eyes  
Leave tomorrow in the hands of love  
Hear the cry of freedom rise above_

Monger felt himself growing angrier by the minute. The day the monsters took off on Insectosaurus' back and headed off to Paris, he truly thought he would never be their warden again. For B.O.B., Link, and Dr. Cockroach especially, he had believed that fifty years of being hidden underground were finally over. Oh how wrong he had been. And now he had three new recruits who were obviously displeased at the situation. The only thing that had felt a tiny bit enjoyable from his encounter with them was the attraction that he felt toward the blonde gargoyle. The subtle tension had caught him off guard, but he quickly masked it before it got out of hand. When he had glanced at her red and green eyes, he noticed a spark of what he felt within them.

_All our hearts will beat in time  
All we want is peace.  
All the scars will heal in time  
All we want is peace of mind_

The general scowled and hurled his glass against the wall. It shattered, and scotch ran down to the floor as he picked up the bottle and began drinking from it. His sigh was colored with irritation, fatigue, and something he refused to identify himself with. He took another drink, and then put the bottle away. He'd have to regret what happened later; it was time to find out the new monsters' abilities.

* * *

Brionni looked bored, Christi was a little curious, and June emanated with annoyance as the three sisters once again found themselves on a moving platform. Monger wasn't them yet, it was a bunch of young ready-to-shoot soldiers, but he was the one who ordered them out of their cells.

"I wish he'd make up his mind about where he wants us," June muttered, ears flat against her head.

"Well, this sounded important," Christi tried defending the general. Brionni scoffed.

"Important? Since when was anything that had to do with us important?" the gargoyle snapped. Christi frowned at her but said nothing.

"Quiet," a red-haired soldier commanded, prodding his gun in their direction. He met June's gaze, and visibly paled when she growled at him. The other soldiers proceeded to lift their guns toward the tigress, but she was unfazed. After a few moments passed, they gradually put their guns down, and were inwardly relieved when the platform descended and stopped in front of yet another door.

The door opened, and the trio of female monsters was marched inside. Once they were inside, the soldiers returned to the platform where they would wait until they were finished. The room they were in was just large enough for Susan to stand without hitting her head; this meant that Insectosaurus could never come down here. It was empty, though the walls were decorated with outlined panels. The women saw Monger standing a few feet away, his expression as stern as ever. Brionni and June picked up the faint scent of scotch from his being, and silently wondered about his actions.

"It's time to see what you can do," he said, "Welcome to the Battle Room."


	8. VII: Battle on!

**Humanity's Rejects**

**A/N:** Hello, peeps. It is I, the almighty Writerdragon. This chapter is mine! Solar will be the next chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, nor does Solar. We only own this pimpin' story and our OCs. Don't sue, Dreamworks.

**Battle on!  
**

**VII  
**

"Oh thank you, Lord," Brionni chimed, smiling brightly. "A reason to destroy something!"

Monger arched an eyebrow to her. Her long thin tail was mad. It swayed from side to side—much like a happy dog would act. He smirked at her, and her wings that were clinging to her shoulder shuttered in anxiousness. June merely rolled her eyes, her arms smoothly crossing over her chest. Christi only sighed, her lips pressed together.

"You are so violent," the black monster whispered.

The gargoyle's ears twitched. "Yeah, so?" she asked, bouncing from one claw-foot to the next. "I've got energy to burn. Don't judge me."

"Too late," June muttered with a smirk.

Brionni glared hatefully at the tigress.

Monger's hand slipped over to a panel that hung on the wall, pressing a few buttons, the smirk never leaving his features. "Well, if you are so eager, then you'll go first," he stated.

Brionni's ears became alert, and she watched as thick glass plates closed her in. June and Christi was separated from their non-blood sister, and Monger as well. In reaction, Brionni became a jaguar, and jumped back in surprise. The general's stern feature faded instantly away. She could . . . _morph_. It was like a second skin that formed from her head, and covered her body. The transformation was swift—if one was to blink, they would have missed it. Monger stepped forward, his face inches away from the glass.

_This is gunna be good_, the stern general thought, looking at the jaguar.

Brionni-jaguar lunged at the glass, her huge paws on the barrier, her breath fogging up the dense glass. Her eyes were wild-mad as she glared down at the general. "What the hell is this!" she demanded roughly, her voice as prickly as sandpaper.

Monger slightly motioned his head, and his knuckles rapped on the glass. "You wanna go first, right?" he asked. "Then show me whatcha got."

Brionni just stared at his watery green eyes, suppressing the need to curse him out. _He has nice eyes_, she thought to herself. She then stiffened, her fur standing on end. _Crap, did I just think that?_

_**Yes**_, Christi stated blandly.

Brionni turned around, one of her fat paws dangling, and the other still pressed to the glass. Her teeth were showing, and her eyes narrowed. _How many times have I told ya to stop readin' my mind? _ she thought in a scowl.

Christi became embarrassed and flashed a cheesy grin. June knew that they were using their minds to talk, but to Monger, it was just a bunch of facial expressions between the both of them. Brionni hissed, jumping down to all fours. Her stride was slow, but her scowl never left her features. The jaguar turned to the general.

"Ya show _me_ what _ya_ got!" she cried, smirking.

Monger smirked at her, pressing a few more buttons on the panel. Flirting. Subconsciously flirting. That was what they were doing, and Christi sensed it. And she smiled ever so faintly smiling at the information that she received from the atmosphere. Brionni crouched low, a growl rumbled from her throat, preparing for a fight. A club attached to chains came her way. Brionni smirked. _Too easy_. She leaped, digging her claws into the wood, ripping it part like shards of paper. She landed on the ground as her "normal" form. Her gargoyle tail flicked, and she turned to the general.

"Too easy," she sung out. "Give me something hard!"

Monger grinned. He like her enthusiasm. And he did. She polished off all the machines he threw her. She trashed guns that fired at her. The only time she stopped was when Monger cried: "Stop, Morph!"

Brionni landed on the ground, her wings low, her breath steady. She cringed at the new name he had just given her. "What?" she hissed, her eyes set on fire.

"Yer done," Monger stated firmly.

The barriers came down, allowing Brionni to free. She jumped, landing near Christi's feet, crouched like the gargoyle she was. Her wings were touching the floor. Monger saw what appeared to be a dark spot on the inside of her wing. His eyes must have been fooling him. June was next. She was light on her feet, destroying everything that flew her way. Even though the tigress fought before the general, Monger could only stare at Brionni. His eyes roamed all over her beautiful body. From the clusters of scales that spotted her body, to her wings and horns. Most of her back was showing due to her fleshy wings. Even when Christi show-cased her powers, the general half-paid any attention. He so desperately wanted to free them, but he could not. Brionni glanced up at his sullen face; a slight pain tingled in her heart.

"It en't your fault," she whispered to him.

Monger glanced at her, a small heart-warming smiled spread across his lips. They just looked at each other for several more seconds, until Monger turned away from the sudden tension that spawned between them. He slightly regretted it. After showing the general their powers, he pulled them aside to a small room. There was a table with two chairs. June and Brionni quickly gave up their seat for Christi.

"Take it," June stated, softly smiling.

"Thank you," Christi stated, sitting down in the hard metal chair.

Brionni found a ledge (it was near a camera), and took it. Just like a bat, she hung upside down from the ledge, her arms surrounded by her wings. June stood by Christi, her face expressionless. Monger pulled out three sheets of papers, a pen, and a clipboard from a file cabinet, and sat in the empty chair across from Christi. He glanced up at Brionni.

"Let's start with you," he began. "What is your name?"

"Brionnilavic Danforski."

Monger just looked at her. "What?" he asked, clicking his pen.

"Brionnilavic Danforski. Got a problem with my name?"

"Yeah . . . how do you spell it?" the general asked.

Brionni paused. One of the shameful things about her was that she was illiterate. She could barely read, write, or spell; one of the many cons about living on the streets. Christi came from a good family (once upon a time) and so did June (sort of), and they taught her some basics.

"Um . . . B-R-I . . ."

Monger waited, jotting down what she had said. In a sudden turn of events, it seemed that Monger had read Christi's mind and he said: "How are your reading and writing skills?"

Brionni looked away, bashful. "Crappy," she muttered. "I can barely do so. Thanks to them—" She pointed at her sisters. "—I know the basics."

She could not read. It made sense. She lived on the streets, all of them. Then an idea hit him. When Monger, not so long ago, told the monsters that due to the public, they would never leave Area 5X, in his gloom, he escaped to the library. Besides listening to music and drinking hard liquor, there were times he would find salvation in the library and just read; to escape the fleeting negative comments from the soldiers, and from life in all. Perhaps . . . _he_ could teach her how to read. He fought back the urge to smile as Christi spelled out Brionni's full name to him.

"Okay. Do you have any children?"

"No."

"Family?"

"Dead—well, besides them—" She pointed to her sisters. "—no. All since died long ago."

Monger scribbled on his clipboard. "Okay, what are you powers? I mean, list them all," he stated.

"I can transform into anything, 16-inch bone claws come from my knuckles, heightened hearing and smell, inhuman healing, longevity, the ability to talk to animals, night-vision and 20/20 sight."

He quickly marked them all down.

"How old are you?"

"Two-hundred and nine."

Monger stopped writing, and glanced over at her, an unbelieving look spread across his face. Brionni laughed. "I en't kiddin' ya," she stated. "Christi calculated that I age ten years every one-hundred years."

Monger blinked, then scribbled onto his clipboard. Near the space, which read _Monster name_, he wrote down "Morph."

"What do you think about humans?"

Brionni did not hesitate: "I hate them."

Monger glanced up, a sharp pain in his heart formed. She hated humans . . .? Her face was straight; emotionless. He then wrote down what she had told them.

"Anything else I should be aware of?"

"Like what?"

"Um, you have some medical condition . . .?" Monger offered.

Brionni swung from the ledge slightly. "Well, I have Bloodlust," she stated.

"Wait, what?"

"If I get really mad, I lose control over my body and kill everything in sight. I end up forgetting those events."

Monger glanced at her, then wrote what she had said down. In the _Other_ section, he left it blank. He wanted to observe her before he did anything else. He turned to Christi.

"Your name?"

"Christo Alighieri."

"Reading and writing skills?"

"Okay. I could get better," the black muttered.

"Children?"

"No."

"Family?"

"Gone."

"Powers?"

"My powers are the ability to go through solid objects, mind-control—if it's too much and too strongly focused, I can kill a person—teleportation powers, longevity, hallucination powers and I can create force fields."

Monger jotted them down.

"Age?"

"Fifty or so."

Monger rolled his eyes, but jotted down what she had said. "And humans?"

Christi sighed. "I'm hoping that they will accept us," she whispered.

Monger looked at her with his usual stoic face, but his heart ached. She was the only one that had faith with mankind. He wrote down what she had said. "Anything else?"

"Nada," Christi stated in a bright tone.

And it went like that. Monger asked personal questions and such, and watched how the women reacted. Under June's profile, he put: "may need anger management," and for Brionni: "slightly insane." For Christi: "the only _normal_ one out of the trio." All three had good ties to each other. Under the yelling, screaming, and nearly killing each other, they loved each other—pure, innocent sibling-like love. It was beautiful. Monger placed down his clipboard, and rested his hands on his lap.

"I want to know your life stories. Please, I want to hear."

The women monsters shared looks of surprise when the general said that. Brionni was unsure of what to think. She looked at him. His normally stoic face had a serene and _interested_ expression. He was really interested in what they were going to say. Brionni softly smiled at this. June went first, then it was Christi, then her. Monger listened. He felt like a young child listening to his parents and their stories. Their lives had been enriched with their "sisters." The general had always done that; with every monster he met, he always made sure to hear their stories. To him, it was a reminder that they were people too. Soon the general found himself placing them in their cells. Brionni went into hers, a scowl on her face.

"I'm sorry," Monger muttered as the door closed.

Her eyes glowed in the dark, and on the wall with her claw, she carved: "First day in my metal Hell." She curled up in a ball, her wings low. The Stigma burned on her flesh. She sighed.

_Shit_.


End file.
